


Double-Oh Doctor

by roseforthethorns



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Bond helps him, First Kiss, Flirting, M/M, Pre-Slash, Q gets injured, relationship start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7693948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/pseuds/roseforthethorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's dangerous to work in R and D, especially when things catch on fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double-Oh Doctor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MajorityRim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorityRim/gifts).



> When I wrote "Unplanned" MajorityRim commented, saying: I want a fic where Bond demonstrates how good of a doctor he is omg"
> 
> This is that story.

“Get the fire extinguisher!” Q yells over the sound of the blaring alarm. Of all the days for the sprinkler system to cut out, it would be when there’s an explosion in R and D, and they need to get the blaze under control _now_ , before it takes out most of the department. Q hears someone running up behind him and feels more than sees the hiss of the fire suppressant foam. He reaches in his pocket to get his phone and send out an alert to all of MI6, but his mobile isn’t there. Q looks up and sees it on a nearby table, surrounded by fire.

He doesn’t really think about it, and in hindsight, it’s a terrible decision. Q vaults over the desk and runs through the flames to snatch up his mobile. No sooner does he pocket it than he trips over a fallen box of tools. The throws his arms out to catch himself, and then- _pain_. He feels a sharp sting against his left forearm at the same time that his right hand manages to land on a metal casing that’s been sitting in the flames for a few minutes. He yells and yanks his hand away as the last of the fire extinguisher foam promptly douses him and the rest of the fire.

Q sits on the floor and cradles his hand, watching as blisters begin to form on the bright red skin. He lifts his left arm to try and push himself up and feels something slippery against his palm. He’s bleeding. And then the world goes black.

***

James is surprised more people haven’t come running at the sound of a fire alarm, but when he realizes it’s emanating from Q-branch, it explains a lot. They’re always setting fire to things, making bombs. Usually it’s a wonder anything remains intact. He heads right for where the noise is loudest, just in time to see Q drop to the floor. Once the fire is out, he sees the Quartermaster pass out, and that does it. As soon as he can see Q is still breathing, he knows what needs to happen. Bond jumps over the debris and rushes to Q’s side, checking his pulse and looking at the blood on his sleeve and the burn on his hand.

Scooping Q up into his arms, he makes his way out of the charred room and up to Q’s office. He lays the boffin on the sofa, leaving his side long enough to run and get his first aid kit from his locker. He returns moments later and closes the door, crossing quickly to Q to take stock of his injuries. The cut on his arm is bleeding slowly but freely, but the cardigan is a write off. It’s Q’s right hand that worries him. The burns don’t look too horribly severe, but they do appear painful.

He sets the boffin’s glasses on a nearby table to make sure he doesn’t break them on accident. Q’s still unconscious and unable to protest, but James needs to see if the cut will need sutures or not. He pulls an alcohol wipe from his kit and gently, thoroughly, cleaning the wound. Q stirs with a whimper at the sting of the disinfectant just as James determines that a plaster will fix it up well enough. He drops the bloodied wipe in the bin and brushes his hand over Q’s forehead.

“Q? Q can you hear me?” Nothing. Damn, he should have checked for head injuries. “Q, answer me damnit.”

***

He knows that voice. The quartermaster groans, scrunching his face up as he struggles to open his eyes. Blue fills his vision, though it’s slightly blurry. Did he break his glasses?”

“Follow my finger, Q.”

“I would if I could see it.” He coughs and realizes how dry his throat is. It bloody hurts. “I remember the fire. How long was I out?”

“Maybe five minutes? Ten at most I think. Now, how’s your head?”

“Everything is blurry, but my mind is clear enough. Can I have my glasses back, Bond?”

James replaces them on Q’s face, and the boffin blinks, his vision snapping back into focus. “I remember fainting when I saw blood.” He starts to look at his arm, but James takes his chin very gently, holding Q’s head in place.

“If that’s true, then let me put plasters on this first. Don’t look at your left arm.”

His fingers are softer than Q had thought they would be, still gun callused but gentle, firm. Q nods once and exhales through his mouth as James works quickly to bandage the wound. It’s done in moments, and the slight pressure of the dressing reminds Q he needs to be taking stock, not idly observing the different shades of blond and brown in the man’s hair.

“There we are. How’s your mobility?”

Q stretches and moves his arm slowly, noticing now his distinct lack of shirt or cardigan. “Wait, what happened to my clothes?”

“Your trousers are fine. You’re still wearing them in fact. But your shirt and cardigan were covered in blood, and they were singed too.”

“I have a spare jumper in that cupboard. Would you get it for me?”

“After I’ve taken care of your hand, yes.”

“Oh.” That’s right, he’d forgotten about his hand until Bond mentioned it. Q looks down at it reluctantly and hisses in pain and frustration. “Please tell me it looks worse than it is.”

“It looks like high first degree burns. Another few seconds and you’d be looking at severe second.” Bond pulls a salve from his bag and scoops it gently out of the container with his fingers. “This will probably sting. Hold still for me. Squeeze my shoulder or arm if you need to.” Q nods, then hisses and fights back a whimper of pain as the agent currently kneeling at his feet covers the burn completely in the healing salve. It stings something fierce, and Q finds he’s digging his fingers into Bond’s shoulder while the agent works. He bites his lip hard enough to almost draw blood-and then it’s done and James is wrapping his hand in gauze to keep the salve on the burns and prevent Q from doing more damage.

“You’ll need to take this off in a few hours, give it air, but that should help as a temporary solution.”

“Medical will be pissed I didn’t go to them first.”

“The vampires can get bent. All they’d want to do is take your blood and keep you under observation.”

“I’m sure M would argue it’s necessary. You were checking me earlier for concussion or head trauma weren’t you.”

“I saw you fall. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“And you brought me to my office. And patched me up yourself.”

“Why was there a fire in the first place? I heard the alarm because I was walking by Q-branch on my way to grab lunch.”

Q’s cheeks flush and he stares at his bandaged hand. “I-well… I was trying to make you an-an exploding pen.” He feels like a complete idiot for even admitting it out loud, but when he looks up at James, there’s something there Q never expected to see.

“May I?”

The boffin realizes how close they’re sitting, James’s hand on his knee and the other on his arm. He stares into Bond’s stunning blue eyes, such an icy color that is somehow filled with warmth, and he nods. “Yes.”

The agent leans forward and captures Q’s mouth in a kiss, chaste for a few seconds before slipping his tongue against the seam of Q’s lips, and in that moment, Q knows he will never want to go back to whatever they had before. He grips the lapel of Bond’s jacket with his good hand and kisses back fiercely, pouring everything into the contact of their lips. He feels James sink his hand into Q’s hair, and the younger man moans, trembling like a leaf. He can feel the agent smirking before he pulls, making Q gasp with pleasure and allowing James to suck on his tongue.

He’s breathless when Bond finally pulls back, just enough to grin. “Come on. Lunch. I’m buying.”

Q blinks a few times and lets James help him stand. “First aid and then you’re feeding me? Be careful, I might follow you home like a stray.”

“If you did, I don’t think I would mind at all, Q.”

“Thank you, 007.”

“Call me James.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and reviews are welcome!


End file.
